


Summer Daze

by lalazee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Comedy, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Underage Sex, OtaYuri Week 2017, Pining, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Yuri Grows Up, underage love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 15:03:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9907952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalazee/pseuds/lalazee
Summary: Three Times Yuri Tried to Seduce His Camp Counselor and the Fourth Time It Worked.Written for Otayuri Week, Day 4: Long distance/visits.(This fic contains Yuri in love with Otabek from age eleven. It contains Otabek strongly noticing Yuri from age seventeen. There is no underage sexual activity, including kissing.)





	

1.

“Hey. I’m Otabek. You can call me Beka if you want.”

Otabek wiped his hands on the thighs of his deep green shorts and looked at the group of kids.

“Uh, I’m a sophomore in high school and umm. Yeah.” Otabek scratched his head, his unkempt mess of black hair curling in all directions at the tips. “If there’s anything you want to know, just ask. I’m your counselor for the next three months.”

Eleven year-old Yuri stared.

Never had he seen a guy as tan or handsome or cool as this one. And he was Yuri’s camp counselor. Out of all the counselors. His!

If it was the last thing he did, Yuri decided, he would make this man his own. Whatever that meant. He’d heard that on television somewhere.

Yuri was not one to be discouraged. He was not one to let anyone step on his dreams.

For three months, he never gave up.

He brought Otabek cool bugs. Gave him an eagle feather he’d found on their hike. Talked his ear off when he was busy chaperoning Friday night free time. Took selfies with him. Played pool with him – lost to pool with him.

Wherever Otabek was, Yuri followed in hopes that this would be enough for Otabek to realize how cool _he_ was in return.

By the end of camp, Yuri had mostly run out of ideas. He only had one thing left to do.

Jewelry. Girls loved that stuff, right? Maybe Otabek would too.

The last day was mayhem. Kids, older and younger, ran around trying to collect phone numbers, take photos with friends, exchange camp shirts, pack their belongings last-minute, and find their parents.

Yuri, however, didn’t give a shit when his grandpa was coming to get him.  He had a mission.

Otabek sat on the porch of one of the cabins, leaning back against his hands, his face lit dark gold by the streaming summer sun. His hair had grown so messy and long during the months that he had it up in a curly bun atop his head. His shorts had eked past his knees and bunched higher up his toned, hairy thighs. Sweat glistened at his throat.

To Yuri, he looked like some kind of movie star.

It made Yuri hyper aware of his own buzz cut and too-girly face and scrawny body.

“Beka,” Yuri said, forcing confidence to his voice.

Otabek looked over, his smile automatic and genuine as he watched Yuri approach.

“Hey, bud. Need help with anything?”

“Nah. Unlike these idiots, I packed ahead of time.”

Otabek snorted a short laugh and shook his head, looking away to survey the zoo gone wild around them.

“That’s not the kind of talk that makes friends.”

“I don’t care about that stuff,” Yuri said, and pretty much meant it. He sat himself down beside Otabek. Probably a little too closely beside him. “I have something for you. A goodbye present, I guess.”

“Oh yeah?”

Otabek raised a dark, dramatic brow as he considered Yuri’s clutched fist.

Yuri nodded eagerly.

“I made it.” He held open his hand to reveal an intricately weaved hemp necklace with a stone charm. Yuri spoke quickly as Otabek stared and quietly too it in his own hands. “It’s no big deal, I mean. I don’t think that stuff suits me, though, so I thought maybe you’d want it. You look good – er, _better_ , better than me in that stuff, I think. The, uh, the rock isn’t anything special. It’s just so smooth and oval and I got one of the directors to drill a hole in the top so I hope you like it and –“

“Hey – Yuri.” Otabek lowered his head and tie the necklace at his nape. He peered up and met Yuri’s eyes. His lips curved. “It’s good. I like it. Thank you.”

Yuri felt his face heat up.

“Oh. Well, you’re welcome. That’s good. I gotta –” Yuri gestured vaguely with one hand. “Go. Now. See you next year?" 

Otabek’s smile widened. It should be illegal to have teeth like a Colgate commercial.  
  
“That’s the plan.”

2.

“You cut your hair,” was the first thing Yuri said to Otabek in a full year. His heart was beating from his chest.

“Hello to you, too,” Otabek said, one corner of his mouth quirking in humor. His eyes were the same dark hot chocolate that Yuri remembered.

Although it would be hard to forget, since he’d been looking at photos of Otabek for the last month previous to arriving at camp once more.

“I like it,” Yuri said, cocking his head as he eyed the undercut now that he was closer.

“I like yours,” Otabek said.

Before Yuri could reply, Otabek reached out and swiped his hand along the short, squat mohawk dyed ice blue.

“Are you a little punk now?”

“I’ve always been a punk,” Yuri said, folding his arms over his chest, a little bit cross and a little bit embarrassed. “Now it just shows.”

Yuri’s eyes widened as he noted Otabek’s necklace. His heart stopped.

“You – you’re wearing the thing I made you.”

Otabek made a neutral humming sound, and was already looking away to a fellow counselor calling for him.

“Alright, punk, I’ll see you after everyone’s unpacked. At the lake.”

He was gone before Yuri could say anything else.

That was okay. The view was good when Otabek walked away. 

As the following three months progressed, it began to dawn on Yuri that Otabek might not be gay.  
  
That would suck. Not that they could date or anything, but at eleven it had never occurred to Yuri that the recipient of your mind-numbing crush should at least be a similar orientation as yourself. At twelve, it was a troubling kink in his plan to keep Otabek forever.

How did you go about finding out something like that?

A week from the end of camp, Yuri sidled up next to Otabek at the group bonfire. Otabek had a guitar and plucked the strings delicately in some familiar tune, but he didn’t play loud enough to attract attention or a crowd. He wasn’t like that.

Yuri considered Otabek’s sober profile glowing in the firelight. In the sun, or by moon or firelight, Otabek still appeared eternally perfect.

“How old are you now?” Yuri said. He propped his elbow on his knee, his chin resting on his fist as he watched Otabek look over without pausing his song.

“Sixteen. Why?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Yuri asked, utterly straight forward as ever.

Otabek’s fingers fumbled on the strings.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I’m not particularly interested,” Otabek said with a shrug, returning to his song and staring at the fire.

“You don’t like girls.”

Otabek stopped, pressed his palm against his strings and turned his head slowly. His eyes were dark.

“Go find some friends to talk to, Yuri.”

Yuri felt his face grow hot, and it was nothing to do with the fire. Otabek had never looked at him like he was a nuisance before. Not in all the times he’d stuck to Otabek’s side like a burr.

Without a word, Yuri stood up and walked away.

Now what should he make of _that_ reaction?

Not that it mattered, really. This was Yuri’s final year at camp. He’d been coming here since he was nine, but the ache in his chest wasn’t exactly over leaving this place behind.

“Hey,” Yuri said, approaching Otabek from behind as he stood by the loading buses with a clipboard.

For a brief moment, Yuri had the chance to admire Otabek’s shoulders. They’d gotten wider over the past year, stronger.

Yuri wondered if he’d ever end up like some handsome high school jock. Tough luck. He only had to look in the mirror to know he’d probably be mistaken for a girl no matter how he cut his hair.

Otabek shifted his attention from filing kids on to buses, to peer down at Yuri. He didn’t look upset or angry – didn’t look upset or angry the very next day, to be honest. Just mild, dependable Otabek.

“Here.” Yuri shoved a massive, thick poster board up in front of his face. It was a collage of photos from both last year and this year, not just of Otabek and Yuri, but all of their camp mates and counselors. Hiking, swimming, being silly, dancing, sitting by the fire, sunburnt, painting faces, climbing trees – making priceless memories.

Eventually, the board was removed from Yuri’s hands. Yuri wished it hadn’t been, because he would have liked to hide his undoubtedly red face behind it a little bit longer.

Otabek held the poster out, waist height, revealing a rare, delighted smile. Yuri had noticed that Otabek smiled a lot less this year.

“Wow.” Otabek looked to Yuri, his happiness still evident. “Really. This is – I love it. You had to have gone through a lot of trouble to make this.”

Yuri shrugged, scuffing his sneaker in the dust.

“Not really. And I figured since I’ll probably never see you again –”

“You never know.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and banked his sadness deep down.

“Whatever. Just, I dunno, have a good life, I guess.”

Yuri couldn’t only react with stunned silence when Otabek hung his arm around Yuri’s shoulders and tugged him in for a quick, firm, half-body hug.

“Alright, punk,” Otabek said, his curved lips not seeming to reach his eyes as they separated. “Have a good life.”

“Yeah, okay,” Yuri said, already turning away with a wave. He couldn’t let Otabek see his face.

“And fix that hair!”

Yuri’s wave turned into the middle finger, and the last thing he ever heard of Otabek was his warm rumble of laughter.

3.

Yuri had really, genuinely, truly, absolutely thought he was over it.

He really fucking wasn’t.

All camp counselors convened two days earlier than the arrival of the children.

So when Yuri returned to summer camp because fond memories of outdoor adventures drew him back, he didn’t think it would be the fond memories of Otabek Altin, Mister Talk Dark and Handsome, that kicked him square in the face upon arrival.

But it was. In fact, Otabek was all Yuri could think about.

Because he was _still fucking here_.

 Ten counselors sat in uncomfortable fold out chairs in the common room, listening to the directors drone on about rules that no one ever paid attention to in the first place.

For that hour, Yuri gawked at the back of Otabek’s head. Still undercut, still strong, straight shoulders. When he turned his head for a moment, same strong, noble profile. Hardened beautifully with the years in cut cheekbones and carved, square jawline.

Fuck.

_Fuck fuck fuuuck._

Then Yuri remembered what he himself looked like. Long, pale hair braided down his back. No longer scrawny, but toned and lean. Still short. But he didn’t look like the little punk Otabek would remember. No blue hair, no mohawk, no awkward limbs or puberty awkward voice and bad skin. Yuri did have cartilage piercings along the curve of one year, but he’d removed them for camp. Still kept the tongue ring, though. No one had to know.

Maybe Otabek simply wouldn’t recognize him. That would really be for the best. Yuri could moon at him in relative peace and anonymity.

With the meeting over, Yuri shot from his seat and was the first one out the door.

Quick strides took him across the camp to the cabin he’d been assigned, where his unpacked bags awaited. He stomped inside and, in a whirlwind of motion, unpacked his belongings with shaking hands.

Why was he acting so strangely? Otabek would probably be happy to see him. So why wasn’t _Yuri_ happy to see Otabek?

“Because you’re still fucking in love with him, that’s why,” Yuri said under his breath as he slammed a bureau door shut.

“Oh, hey,” a low, deeply male voice said behind him. “I was just checking out our bunk. I’m -”

With painful slowness, Yuri had looked over his shoulder, a long strand of hair falling over one eye as he met Otabek’s gaze.

Otabek’s mouth kept moving, but no sound emerged. Then, finally.

“ _Yuri_?”

“Your name is Yuri now?"  
  
Thank God for his smartass mouth for working, even when his brain wasn’t. That was a technique perfected over the years.

Otabek shook his head, very obviously clearing it. Then stared again. Looked down at Yuri’s battered combat boots, lingered at the prerequisite forest green shorts, the camp t-shirt, and stopped to blatantly stare at Yuri’s face.

“You’re – wow. What’re you doing – I mean. How _old_ are you now?”

Yuri turned fully, leaning his hip casually against his dresser and tucking the errant strand behind his ear.

“Seventeen. I’m a Junior now. Same as when we met, wasn’t it?”

“I –” Otabek still didn’t seem to remember how to talk. “Yes.”

“Full circle. But what’re _you_ doing here? It’s been years. Don’t you have a grown up job?”

“I’m a composer. I don’t really have hours,” Otabek said, his hands moving to tuck into his pockets until he seemed to remember he had none. He placed his hands on his waist.

Yuri’s eyebrows shot up.

“That’s really cool. I –”

Yuri’s gaze sharpened, lightning quick on Otabek’s throat.

“Are you…” Yuri couldn’t help but wander forward, reeled in by his hooks in the past. “Are you wearing my necklace?”

The hemp was worn, beginning to fray. But it still looked to be holding strong. Yuri’s heart skipped a beat as he peered up to meet Otabek’s eyes.

And just like that, Otabek seemed to slide into his comfort zone. His mouth was a gentle curve.

“I wear it every year, you punk. How could I not?”

“Uh.” Yuri felt his face flush red. “Wow.”

“There’s the Yuri I recognize,” Otabek said placidly, aiming a thumbs up at Yuri.

That snapped Yuri out of it.

Yuri aimed a scathing look Otabek’s way, both out of embarrassment and self-protection. He swept past Otabek, their shoulder’s colliding as he went.

Yuri called over his shoulder as he opened the front door.

“There’s a lot of me that’s going to be new for you _real_ soon, Beka. New playing ground now. And you know what that means? New games.”

With a new fire lit in his blood, Yuri had a feeling that this was his year to make Otabek Altin notice the fuck out of him.

And that’s exactly what happened.

Although they rarely interacted during the day sans meals in the mess hall and assorted group activities, their interactions were narrowed mostly to down-time in the counselor’s communal cabin and in their own shared bunk.

They ate together, slept in the same room together, had the same friends, all for three months.

Yuri made sure to get undressed for the night only when Otabek was in the room. Watching that gentlemanly side of him politely avert his eyes as Yuri stripped, night after night, was absolutely delightful.

Then there were the movie nights in the communal cabin with the other counselors. Yuri would always plop himself beside Otabek, making sure they were pressed shoulder to shoulder on the couch.

And Yuri couldn’t forget the night all of the counselors decided to go midnight skinny dipping. Yuri had been all for that. Otabek had been forcibly pulled in by everyone else. Yuri had splashed and played and howled with laughter in the water, same as everyone else. It didn’t go unnoticed by him that Otabek never stopped staring.

Of course, Yuri was never unaffected. His actions were just those of a teenager desperately hoping for the attention of his forever crush. These were the reactions of someone totally unnerved by the completely perfect existence of a man who could make his knees tremble with a single intense stare.

Yuri was protecting himself. His best defense was using offence.

Unfortunately, there was no self-preservation when it was the night before the end of camp, both of them were laid in bed, and Otabek started _talking_.

“Do you have something for me?”

“ _Mmm_?” Yuri was half asleep already. He’d always slept like a rock.

“It’s the last day of camp tomorrow.”

Yuri thought about it for a moment, his brain fuzzy. Then drifted off. Then woke up again.

“You’ve got me,” he murmured into his pillow with a yawn.

There was a beat of silence, before Otabek’s low, soft voice drifted over.

“That’s not something I’d be able to accept right now.”

Yuri snorted a laugh, still half asleep. He yawned and spoke at the same time.

“Sucks t’be you.”

Yuri drifted off, just as he heard Otabek speak. Or was it a dream?

“It seems so.”

The next day, it didn’t seem there’d be time for Yuri to give Otabek a present, anyway. Pandemonium didn’t even begin to cover it. By the time evening fell and the last crying kid was sent off into the abyss of the real world, Yuri had slung himself across the common room couch, flung an arm over his eyes, and relished the peace and quiet.

After a good twenty minutes, he heard the cabin door open and shut with a creak and slam.

“Whatever it is, I want no part of it,” Yuri said without moving.

Footsteps came towards the couch. A pause, then someone settling in at the far end of the couch, just by his feet.

Still, Yuri remained flat-out and motionless.

“The fuck you want?”

“It’s just me,” Otabek said, sending Yuri into an immediate state of alert. “Wait,” he said quickly. “Don’t move.”

“What?”

“I said don’t, uh, don’t move. I have a gift for you this time.”

Yuri’s body tensed with suspicion.

“Oookay? Are you –“

Otabek leaned in, his warm breath startlingly close to the shell of Yuri’s ear.

“I think you are… Beautiful. And I wish that things were different. That you were older, or that I was younger. I know I shouldn’t be saying this at all, but I don’t think I could have lived with myself if I never said it. You are beautiful, Yuri. I can’t take my eyes off of you. I wish I could.”

Otabek didn’t pause or wait for a reply. He stood and swiftly left the room, fast as it seemed he could without running.

Yuri laid there, stunned to complete silence.

Eventually, he sat up, blinking blearily at the empty room. He brushed his hair from his eyes and took a deep breath.

Well. There was only one thing he could do with that information, now.

Come back next year when he was eighteen.

Six years ago, Yuri had decided he would make that man his own. Now, he would play his final hand.

4. 

“ _Boo_ ,” Yuri said with a smile.

Otabek looked over his shoulder, his expression clearly distant and distracted as he’d just finished reading a list of his assigned campers.

His eyes widened, just as his pupils swelled in the seconds it took for him to flick his attention from Yuri’s head to toes, then back up.

Yuri’s smile widened. He knew Otabek’s expressions by now.

“Yuri,” Otabek said, quickly turning around to fully face him. “Hey. I saw you on the counselor list this time. Welcome back.”

“You too. Woulda sucked if you hadn’t showed.”

“I couldn’t. I love this place.”

“Same,” Yuri found himself admitting, his smile softening as he surveyed Otabek. Pale, mauve bruises clung beneath his eyes, like he’d missed out on some recent sleep. Otherwise, his tan was deep gold, his hair the same, his arms distractingly muscled with the short sleeves of the t-shirt rolled up. That old hemp necklace and it's smooth, sturdy stone still hung at his neck.

“How have you been?” Otabek asked, gesturing for Yuri to follow as he began to head towards the bus entrance area. They had to walk down a long, twisted path through the cool, shaded forest. It was a blessed release from the pounding heat.

“Me? Good. Really good.” Yuri flicked a glance Otabek’s way, found himself meeting his eyes because Otabek had been staring at him the entire time anyway. “Wanna know why?”

Otabek frowned a little, his brow furrowing.

“Why?”

Yuri stopped on the lonely path and turned to Otabek. When all he got was a look of confusion, he leaned in. Yuri rested one hand on Otabek’s firm shoulder for balance as he went to his toes, leaned in, and brushed his lips against Otabek’s jaw. He heard a sharp intake of breath, then silence at Otabek held it.

Yuri licked his lips, his tongue just grazing Otabek’s ear.

“Don’t you know, Beka? I’m eighteen now. And I am good. I’m _so_ good.”

The last reaction Yuri had ever expected was to be promptly picked up by the waist and swung around until his back was pressed against a tree, the hard, hot length of Otabek’s body pressed intently against his.

Yuri’s wide eyes met Otabek’s narrowed ones, a small unfettered gasp escape as Otabek ground his hips against Yuri’s and brought his mouth close to Yuri’s parted lips.

“You are _unbelievably_ agitating,” Otabek said, his voice strained and rough.

“Is that was this is?” Yuri asked, sounding a little breathless for his liking. His thoughts were scattering like sparks, burning out too fast for him to hold on to a single one.

“Fuck no,” Otabek said sharply.

He captured Yuri’s mouth in one swift dive. Yuri could have sworn his heart stopped. Otabek’s lips were full and firm and completely unexpectedly ravenous as he tore at Yuri’s mouth with teeth and tongue, nips and licks, groans and savage, starving kiss after kiss.

Yuri could barely keep up. Had never kissed anyone who seemingly desired him so desperately. He melted – he could do no more. He went pliant and giving in Otabek’s hold, those strong arms tightly wrapped around his waist to bring him closer.

Forgetting how to breathe altogether, Yuri flung his arms around Otabek’s neck and lost himself.

They only came up for air when Yuri’s lungs were burning, the both of them exhausted and energized at the same time as their hungry gazes clashed.

Yuri managed to recover first.

“That’s, uh – that’s a lot of aggravation.”

To Yuri’s shock, Otabek laughed. And continued to laugh as he dropped his head to Yuri’s shoulder.

“You really are a little punk, aren’t you?”

Yuri turned his head a little and smiled against Otabek’s thick hair. He closed his eyes, just for a moment.

“Apparently you love it.”

“Apparently.” Otabek nuzzled the crook of Yuri’s neck like an animal. “Do you know how long you’ve been on my mind?"

It was Yuri’s turn to laugh.

“Not as long as you’ve been on mine.”


End file.
